


One for All and All for You

by crowbeau



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Deepthroating, M/M, Oral Sex, Restraints, Slight Cum Stuffing, Sounding, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeau/pseuds/crowbeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marx has been waiting for a chance to surprise Ryouma in bed; it's petty revenge for all the times that Ryouma has flirted with him shamelessly in front of the army. With the help of Camilla-- and to a lesser extent, Leon-- Marx formulates the perfect plan to get back at the Hoshidan High Prince. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One for All and All for You

There had been a turning point somewhere in their relationship where that Marx had become horrendously addicted to performing sexual acts with Ryouma.

In the beginning, when they were timid about their touches, Marx had refused to let Ryouma touch him anywhere outside of their chambers.  He feared what the other members of the army would think if they saw one prince fucking the other.

Ryouma had pointed out that whoever the hell saw them would think it was fucking hot.

_Useless Ryouma, never worrying about a thing.  Like always._

Marx had been reserved in their relationship.  He had never breeched the wall between work and pleasure.  He had been diligent in keeping his hands off of Ryouma during their war plans and especially when their siblings were about.

Ryouma, on the other hand, was so invested in the feeling of Marx’s ass in his hand that scarcely a day went by where Ryouma did not give that cute butt a squeeze.

It drove Marx crazy.  Not because he disliked it or thought that they’d get caught; they weren’t doing anything wrong.  No, it drove Marx crazy because it was a turn-on, a tease.

And for the rest of the day, Marx had to behave as the stoic prince he’d always appeared to be.  On the inside, he was fighting back the bestial nature that commanded him to suck off Ryouma until he orgasmed twice.

 _Three times on a good day._  

Marx was stuck in perpetual Hoshidan high prince hell.

 

        The spell had been Camilla’s idea.  It had been one that Leon had procured—naturally their gifted mage brother had been the one to do it—and that was as involved as he cared to be.

Camilla on the other hand, took measures to set up a sound barrier around Ryouma’s quarters.

        “I want it to be a surprise,” Marx had said to her through gritted teeth and blushing cheeks.

Camilla had supported him though.  She hadn’t judged him for the lewd ideas he’d brought to her.  In fact, she seemed delighted that her elder brother had asked for her assistance. 

        “I should tell you,” she said when they were alone in Ryouma’s room, “that when you summon the monster, it won’t be controlled.  It will do what it wants.”  
Marx had expected this.  Dare he say, he wanted it?  Because fuck, he wanted it.

The idea of Ryouma walking in and seeing such a display…

Marx forced his giddiness to the side; there could be no error in his work.

       

“How will I get it to stop?” Marx asked her, frowning as he studied the sketches and tomes Leon had brought in earlier that week.

That’s how long it had been planned: a week in advance.  Marx was serious as hell about it.  It was driving Elise crazy not to know what was going on.  But she went on her merry way with Sakura and that had been the end of it.  Blessedly.

        “I think you’d like to study up on a thing that’s going to be all over you,” was all Leon had said, dropping the books unceremoniously before his brother.

Marx had thanked him and was even more thankful for his continued silence and indifference on the matter.

        “Actually,” Camilla said quietly, “you should leave that to me.”  
Marx was immediately dubious.  He didn’t want Camilla spying on his illicit activities with Ryouma.

That was… those times with Ryouma were personal and Marx wasn’t willing to share them, even with his little sister.  Especially with his little sister.

        “Don’t get so worked up,” the Malig Knight said with a low giggle, “I’m not going to watch you get fucked by a magical monster, Marx.”

 _Good,_ thought Marx, _I wouldn’t want you to._

        “When Prince Ryouma goes into the room, the monster will finish whatever it’s doing and then leave you.”

Marx frowned again, “It’s so simple?”

Camilla nodded, “Leon and I have put a lot of work into making your fantasy a reality, Marx.  Don’t let our magic have gone to waste.”

She shot him a mischievous grin and had left him.

 

Marx now stood alone in Ryouma’s quarters, taking in the sight slowly.  It had been a while since he had been able to enjoy the nice décor of the prince’s bedchamber.  Usually, his only view was of Ryouma’s orgasmic expressions and occasionally the scarlet sheets of the prince’s bed.

The plan had been simple but it made Marx giddy just to think about.  If he thought on it too long, longing would make his cock stir and he didn’t need another issue to contend with this evening.

 

        “It’s a Spawner,” Leon had said, flipping open one of the many tomes in the library, “it’s a low-tier monster that can be summoned by anyone with magic.”

Camilla had shown up and taken over, seeming already—uncomfortably—over-informed about the subject.

        “Spawners have only one purpose,” she said to Marx with a teasing smile, “to reproduce.”

This had been worrisome at first; Marx didn’t want to become some sort of breeder for a monster that his siblings summoned up for him.  But Leon assured him that Spawners could only impregnate one another.

        “Here’s the catch,” Camilla said, eyes bright, “it’s tentacles secrete this juice that works like an aphrodisiac.”

        “You’ll have a fucking blast,” was Leon’s final comment before his departure.

He was considerably less enthused about Marx’s plan than Camilla.  Yet he had helped all the same and Marx was infinitely grateful.

        “So the Spawner gets you all nice and tied up,” Camilla says, already theorizing what events will transpire, “and then it explores you a bit, gives you a taste of its goodness.”

Marx nods slowly, trying not to let his interest show on his face.

        “And then Prince Ryouma walks in,” she says, getting noticeably more excited with the introduction of Ryouma in her twisted tale, “and he’s horrified.  I mean, a monster is fucking his boyfriend.  That’s not cool.  But before he can wrestle the thing to the ground, it just disappears.”

Marx is nodding again.  Camilla’s plan sounds like it will work.

        “It disappears thanks to your younger brother and I,” she reminds him, “so don’t think I won’t count this as a debt.  You owe me, Marx.”

The crowned prince nods, knowing that she’ll use up his debt to allow her and Hinoka to go on a honeymoon.  Their engagement—marriage, actually—was supposed to be a secret but the entire army knew about it.  They just acted like they didn’t so that Princess Hinoka wouldn’t feel self-conscious.

What a lovely army Kamui had made of them all.  It was by Kamui’s power that Marx and Ryouma had met and developed this relationship.

It was getting late and Marx knew the Spawner should be summoned soon.  Ryouma’s exhausting war meeting with his retainers and company would end and then Marx would be waiting—like a beautiful gift-wrapped Nohrian—for him in his quarters.

He changed into one of the yukatas in Ryouma’s closet.  What better way to taunt the poor high prince than by wearing his clothes and being fucked in front of him by someone—something—other than him.

Marx opened the tome and began to summon the Spawner.

 

        It was a strange monster, if ever Marx had seen one.  He couldn’t tell where the thing began and where it ended, only that it was a collection of pulsating tentacles that were dripping with aphrodisiac.  Marx set down the tome and took a deep breath.

The Spawner turned its attention upon the prince.  Or at least, Marx assumed that it did.  It manoeuvred towards him, making an uncanny squelching noise as the tentacles slid across Ryouma’s wooden flooring.

Marx tried to stay relaxed as the monster began to wrap its tentacles around him.  This was what he had wanted and his siblings had put in so much effort to make it a reality.  He wasn’t going to back down now just because the sensations were unusual.

The Spawner had apparently dealt with humans before, evident in the way that it curled a tentacle around Marx’s wrists, bringing his bound hands above his head.  A pair were careful to cement themselves around the prince’s ankles to prevent an escape.

Marx didn’t want to escape. 

The other tentacles simply explored his body, poking and prodding at him like he had expected.

       

        The Spawner’s tentacles had suctioned themselves against Marx’s nipples and were working rhythmically against the perky pink parts.

And Marx had surrendered himself to them, always feeling better when he relinquished his control.

As he closed his eyes, the prince allowed his other senses to sharpen, glad that he had learned such a technique from Ryouma before now.

A tentacle found its way up his leg, snaking around his well-rounded calf and then his thick thigh, poking experimentally at his ass.  Marx sighed as it slipped into him.  It was nowhere near the thickness that Ryouma was and wasn’t much of a stimulant.

 

For a moment, the prince worried that the Spawner wasn’t going to be enough; it wasn’t making Marx nearly as hot and bothered as he should’ve been.  To get the reaction he wanted from Ryouma, he _had_ to be hot and bothered.  And yet…

The Spawner’s largest—its thickness almost compared to Ryouma’s—tentacle snaked across Marx’s midsection and between the two that were hard at work on his nipples, curling loosely around his throat.

Marx remembered the first time that he and Ryouma had done a bit of breath-play.  This instance reminded him of it and he felt himself harden at the memory.  The image of Ryouma’s face being clouded with the threatening darkness of unconsciousness as he pounded mercilessly into the Nohrian prince rose up unbidden.

Marx was sighing at the thought when suddenly the Spawner shoved its largest bit into his mouth.

 

        Marx’s gag reflex would have turned things disastrous, had he not lost it completely—trained it away, more like—to Ryouma much earlier.

The thought embarrassed him but oh how he had liked Ryouma’s startled expression when he’d fully sheathed the Hoshidan in his mouth.  The memory made it easier to take the monster’s appendage; Ryouma made everything easier.

The tentacle filled the prince’s mouth with a sweet juice and continued snaking around, slipping down into his throat.

The feeling was bizarre, to say the least.  Though Ryouma’s cock was thick, it had never reached further than the back of Marx’s mouth.  To feel the Spawner’s tentacle slithering down in his throat, releasing that sickeningly sweet taste…

Marx let out a low moan, tongue swirling around the thickness in his mouth.  He sucked a shallow breath in through his nose.

He had been poked and prodded enough and Marx wondered briefly—his mind was beginning to get hazy—when Ryouma would arrive.

 

The thinnest tentacle—it had to be—found its way to Marx’s half-hard cock.  The prince had wondered if the Spawner was going to acknowledge the appendage or not.  Clearly it was.  The thinnest curled around the prince’s dick, moving up and down like an exotic handjob.

Marx would have gasped at the new feeling, had his mouth not been taken by the thickest tentacle.

The thinnest finally made its move, snaking to Marx’s narrow slit.  It pushed against the skin there, slipping inside, much to the prince’s surprise.

He wanted to get a look at what was happening but the piece in his mouth had forced him to keep his head tipped skyward, allowing for the best access.

Marx’s mind was going pleasantly blank and the feelings of pleasure were become stronger—and blessedly easier—to feel.  The aphrodisiac that Camilla had told him about was being to take its toll.

 

        Marx focused his thoughts on what was going on with his cock.  The smallest tentacle had pushed gently into his slit, wiggling into the cramped space with obvious difficulty.  The feeling was new and unusual but the longer that the tentacle slid into his slit, the more Marx decided that he liked it.  His mind was so beautifully foggy that he wondered if maybe he could stay like this forever.

The tentacle that had probed his ass was joined by several of its siblings and for a moment, Marx wondered if the additions would feel more like Ryouma’s cock, thick and ruthless.

After a moment, they were all moving in a single solidified motion, thrusting into Marx’s ass without reserve.  He let out a moan that was quickly swallowed by the monstrous bit he was deepthroating.

 

There was a sound in the far-off distance.  Marx felt that he should’ve cared about it, though he couldn’t think of why.

The tentacles inside him were quickening their pace and Marx was glad to have something that compared to-,

Ryouma.  That sound had been Ryouma’s arrival.  The Nohrian prince opened his eyes, lazy, half-lidded gaze falling upon his lover.

Ryouma was standing very still in the doorway.  And then he was closing the door slowly, not taking his eyes from the spectacle for even a moment.  The Hoshidan prince seemed hypnotized by the sight, Marx being violated in his borrowed yukata.

        “Marx,” Ryouma whispered.

There was a shocked surprise in his voice. 

 _Yes,_ that had been what Marx had wanted to hear.

Hearing the Hoshidan prince’s voice sent a shiver down his spine; oh how he had waited for this.

 

        Ryouma took a few steps forward, slipping his warm hand between Marx’s borrowed clothing and feeling the light bump of his belly.

        “I’m impressed,” the Hoshidan prince remarked, “this thing’s stuffing you better than I ever could.”

Marx twitched at the comment, cock visibly throbbing.

Ryouma laughed lightly and put his hand to the Nohrian’s throat, feeling where the Spawner’s tentacle was slowly moving.

        “And deepthroating it like it’s nothing,” the prince said with obvious awe, “you are full of surprises, Marx.”

Then he amended, quite softly with a laugh, “Actually you’re full of delicious tentacles but that’s not the point.”  
Ryouma reached into this waistband, drawing out his half-hard dick and pumping it slowly at the sight.

        “I want to remember this forever,” the prince whispered, “this sinful sight of the mighty prince of Nohr being violated by one of his own creations.”

With his other hand, Ryouma slipped his fingers around Marx’s ignored cock and gave it a few violent jerks.  He pushed his finger down on the tentacle at Marx’s slit, winning a loud moan from the Nohrian.

        “Look how you take these like a whore,” Ryouma said, pressing his thumb down on Marx’s slit again, “you release these sick noises like you have no shame.”

Marx jerked beneath the Hoshidan’s hand, visibly excited by both the verbal and physical stimulant.  Ryouma had forgotten how easily Marx reacted to words like that.

        “So addicted to the feeling of a thick cock within you that you’d take that of a monster,” Ryouma continued, “can you blame me for wanting to take you as I have?  That expression you’re wearing could make an amateur cum with just one look.”  
At last—it was a mixed blessing—the Spawner seemed to finish its ministrations, releasing one last heavy load into the Nohrian prince before disappearing entirely.

It was just as Camilla had said.  Everything was perfect.

Marx dropped to the floor, limbs useless and trembling.  Ryouma took him roughly by the hair and angled the Nohrian’s face upward.

        “I hope for your own sake that that creature didn’t tire you out,” he hissed, dark eyes squinting accusingly.

 

        Ryouma sighed, surveying the room tiredly.  The meeting had gone on longer than he had expected and it had made him late to climb into bed beside Marx.

It had made him late to see the spectacle of Marx being unceremoniously fucked by a monster, the prince amended in his head.  How long had it been?

How long had Marx subjected himself to this violation?  How long was the Nohrian caught up in ecstasy with someone—something—other than Ryouma? 

He was lost in his thoughts until a warmth latched onto his cock.  The high prince glanced down at the marvellous sight of Marx sucking diligently on his hardened manhood.  The Nohrian prince raised his half-lidded gaze, looking up at Ryouma around his cock.

The sight was intoxicating.  To see Marx—who was, without fail, prim and proper at all times—wearing such a lewd expression, hungering for Hoshidan cock, was nearly enough to push Ryouma over the edge.

He let out a shaky breath.  The prince wondered if ever Marx had taken his cock with such enthusiasm.  As he pondered, the Nohrian’s harsh sucks only grew more ferocious.

Ryouma glanced back down, enthralled by the willingness with which Marx had taken his dick.  The prince seemed to be enjoying it more than ever before.  When Ryouma finally met his sweet release, it felt as though Marx had sucked the cum right from him.

It was a bizarre feeling that Ryouma wanted to repeat.  And Marx seemed willing to oblige, showing no signs that the load had even fazed him.  Had the strange monster really transformed Marx into such a shameless slut?  Ryouma wanted to know.  Oh, he _really_ wanted to know.

_Because if that creature is what it takes to get Marx this way…_

Well if it were true, they would never fuck regularly again.  Hell, Ryouma would even be a willing participant in the Spawner’s illicit whims.

        “Marx,” he said softly, fingers curling in his husband’s silky blond hair, “you can stop now.”

He pulled with feeling, the universal sign for ‘get off.’  Marx put his slender, pale hands against Ryouma’s thighs as though bracing himself against the prince’s movements.

        “Marx,” Ryouma repeated with more authority.

When finally, he had managed to part the Nohrian’s mouth from his cock, Ryouma pulled him up and stared at him in amazement.

        “Marx,” the Hoshidan began, though unsure of what to begin with.

He was brimming with questions.  A trail of the Spawner’s cum was slipping down Marx’s thigh, followed by several others.  The creature had really stuffed the prince in an endless fashion that Ryouma had never seen.

        “Ryouma,” Marx said weakly dazed expression seeing right through him, drawing the Hoshidan back to the present, “Ryouma, _I want you_.  _I want you to mess me up_.”

The needy expression that the Nohrian wore was unlike any that Ryouma had withdrawn from him before.  Had Marx always felt like this?  
Had he—for some unknown reason or another—felt unable to share his needs with Ryouma directly?  The Hoshidan was filled with questions.

But they would have to wait.  Because Marx definitely couldn’t. 

“I want your thick Hoshidan cock inside me again.  I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.  I want you to fill me up, Ryouma.  I want-,” he finally trailed off, pressing his body closer to the Hoshidan and kissing him without reserve.

Ryouma pulled back to get a grip on himself and draw a breath.  Was this really his Marx?      

        “You are very greedy, Prince of Nohr,” was his response, in a lazy attempt to keep himself together.

        “I want you,” the Nohrian said again, “Camilla put up a sound barrier.  Ryouma-,  Ryouma, _please_.”

Now he was begging?  Ryouma eyed his husband in amazement.

        “Get on your knees and beg me,” he said.

He didn’t know why he’d said it.  But Marx had always fought him—even if just a bit—there had been a small resistance whenever they’d done these things.

But this Marx—right here and now—he was so beautifully submissive that Ryouma had to try his hand at full dominance.

Marx fell to his knees without an ounce of dignity.  One of his pale hands curled around his own cock, the other around Ryouma’s.

        “I want you in me so badly, Ryouma,” he said, pumping their dicks in unison as if to make his point, “Please take me.  Please, fuck me mercilessly.  I want you inside me _right now_ , Ryouma.”

If Marx said his name one more time, Ryouma was going to spill his seed all over the Nohrian’s perfectly pale face.

The thought, though tempting, was pushed to the side.  Ryouma lifted Marx and the Nohrian released his holds, allowing Ryouma to manipulate him as he pleased.

 

Ryouma had pulled Marx’s body to the bed and flipped him on his front, eyeing the work that the Spawner had done in detail.  Marx turned his head to give Ryouma a needy look that simply conveyed ‘ _fuck me_.’ A trail of cum slid from the corner of the Nohrian’s half-open mouth and Ryouma pulled him up by his blond hair only to capture the essence—was it his own?—in a deep kiss.

When he pulled back, he released his grip on Marx’s light curls and lined himself up with Marx’s ass.  The last remains of the Spawner’s secretions were finally spilling out and Ryouma thrust into the Nohrian without reserve.

There was no purpose in being slow, Marx had already been warming up for—how long had it been?—a healthy amount of time.

        “Yes,” Marx breathed as Ryouma plunged into him, “Like tha- _ah_ -that.  Like that.”  
Ryouma withdrew momentarily and Marx let out a pained sigh, seeming to think the Hoshidan wasn’t about to thrust into him again.  When Ryouma did, the prince pushed himself farther onto the Hoshidan cock impatiently.

        “Spawner-,” Marx got out, “Couldn’t compare.  To- _ouuh_ \- you.”

Ryouma took comfort in the idea that—even in being fucked senseless by a tentacle beast—Marx had Ryouma in this thoughts.

 

        “Harder, Ryouma,” Marx hissed with undeniable need, “go- _mmhm_ \- faster.  I’m not- _haah-_ going to-break.”

Hearing Marx try to get a sentence out between Ryouma’s thrusts was both an entertainment and a turn-on.  The Hoshidan pulled his cock from the hot confines of Marx’s ass and flipped him onto his back, staring down into the Nohrian’s eyes.

        “Did you plan this out, Marx?” Ryouma asked.

He had to know.  Marx had mentioned Camilla earlier—whom seemed much more capable of designing such an intricate set-up—but Marx nodded with slow enthusiasm.

        “Yes,” was his answer, “I wa- _auh_ -wanted to surprise you.”

The gesture was equally as sweet as it was sinful.  Ryouma would have to find a way to repay the prince.

Although, fucking him senseless—at least right now—seemed to be adequate payment enough.

        “And did you tell your siblings?” the Hoshidan asked, moving pulling Marx to his chest and nibbling at his ear.

Marx shivered as Ryouma sucked greedily at his earlobe.

        “Needed help,” was Marx’s short response.

He let out a groan and Ryouma carefully took the Nohrian’s cock in his hand, jerking him off slowly.

        “ _Yes_ ,” Marx breathed out in quiet relief.

He thrusted weakly into Ryouma’s hand and the Hoshidan resisted the urge to laugh at the primal action.  Marx seemed so far into the fucking that he didn’t have time to fight the instinct of his body.

To see Marx so undone had been a real shock to Ryouma in the beginning.  And now, he could hardly see it any other way.  What was better than this?  
        “ _Ryouma_ ,” the Nohrian whined, voice thick with obvious want, “I’m going to cum, Ryouma.”

The Hoshidan grunted as he thrust into Marx’s tight ass, “Hold it a bit, will you?”  
His cock brushed up against the Nohrian’s prostate and Marx released a helpless moan as his cum bubbled through Ryouma’s fingers.

        “I told you to wait,” the Hoshidan mumbled tightly as he shoved into Marx again.

He finally spilled his seed, releasing the thick load into the Nohrian’s ass.  It was nowhere near as much cum as the Spawner had produced—the image of Marx’s bulging stomach, stuffed full of tentacles and their secretions, rose in Ryouma’s mind—but Marx didn’t seem to care.

He sighed against the Hoshidan and Ryouma set him down gently on the edge of the bed.  His hand was covered in Marx’s essence.  As if thinking of this as well, Marx curled his pale hands around Ryouma’s wrist and lifted the prince’s hand to his mouth.

He slipped his tongue between the Hoshidan’s fingers, lapping up at his own cum without complaint.  He didn’t whine as Ryouma straightened two fingers in his mouth, pushing them gently against the back of this throat.

Marx swirled his tongue around them until Ryouma withdrew.

        “I’m amazed,” he said, wiping what little of Marx’s cum remained onto the edge of his sleeve, “I’ve never seen you in such a manner, Marx.”

The Nohrian shrugged as though he thought it was typical—it definitely wasn’t—and let out a sleepy sound.

Ryouma stood and retrieved a wet towel—Marx had really thought of _everything_ —from the washroom, returning to quickly clean the prince’s cock.

        “Stand up and bend over,” Ryouma said.

Marx did as was asked of him—at this point it was becoming natural for both of them—and let out a sigh.

        “Take me again, Ryouma?”

 _Take him again_?  Ryouma didn’t have the energy for that but if he had… he shook his head to dismiss the impossible ideas.

        “Just cleaning you up,” was Ryouma’s answer as he ran the towel around Marx’s ass, sure to get the remainder of his own essence.

Marx already hated mornings as it was.  The idea of him waking still dripping with Ryouma’s cum was a bit more than either of them were equipped to deal with.

The prince simply nodded, having to make an effort to hold himself up.  When Ryouma was finished, he pulled back the sheets and had Marx climb inside.

The sleepy prince let out a dreamy sigh as Ryouma climbed behind him, hooking a hand possessively around his centre.

        “’Night, Ryouma,” Marx said in a child-like manner.

        “Goodnight, Marx.”

 

        The next morning, the effects of the aphrodisiac had not worn off.  Marx had realised this upon waking.  Ryouma—who he could only guess was exhausted from last night’s escapades—was still lying at his side.

That never happened.  Ryouma was a painfully early-riser and it killed Marx to wake to an empty bed.  Usually, if time allowed, Ryouma would climb back into the mass of sheets and read the scout reports while shifting his fingers through Marx’s hair.

That wasn’t the case this morning.  The Hoshidan prince was still very much asleep.

Marx climbed beneath the sheets, snaking between the Hoshidan’s hot thighs.  Was morning sex too much to hope for?  
Thinking back on the events of last night, Marx began to wonder if _anything_ was too much to hope for. 

Ryouma had reacted so splendidly to the scenario—his reaction was more perfect than Marx could have imagined possible—and it marked another turning point in their relationship.

_I could tell Ryouma I wanted to be blindfolded and whipped and told I looked like a filthy slut and it is possible that he would oblige._

Marx let out a warm breath against Ryouma’s cock and it hardened at the attention.

_Ryouma._

He took the Hoshidan’s length into his mouth slowly, treasuring the feeling of sensitive skin against his tongue.  His jaw was aching a bit from the abuses of yesterday but this opportunity was a rarity and Marx wasn’t about to pass it up.

Ryouma’s musky scent was nearly overpowering beneath the sheet and Marx had to concentrate on taking the cock leisurely.  The Hoshidan prince moaned, a sensual announcement that he was waking.

Marx slipped his mouth further onto the dick, tongue massaging the juncture of the head.  Ryouma grunted, the sure sign he was awake and—more importantly—aware of what was happening.

The sheet came flying from atop Marx and Ryouma’s flushed face greeted him.

The Nohrian stared up at him, cheeks hollowing as he sucked lazily at the prince’s cock.

Ryouma put his hands through Marx’s hair and pulled the prince hurriedly towards him, forcing him to take the length without preparation.

Though there was no need for worry, Marx found it interesting that Ryouma would make such a rash movement.

Maybe yesterday really had unlocked a new part of their relationship.

        “If this is how you’re going to be,” Ryouma said with feigned disinterest, hand still not releasing its grip on Marx’s blond curls, “you can’t blame me for fucking you in the barracks.  Or on the war council table.  Or on the Nohrian throne.”

Marx pushed his nose against Ryouma’s thick dark hair, tongue swirling around his dick. 

“Do you understand me, Marx?”

In response, the prince simply bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

_It really is turning point.  Maybe it was fate that Kamui brought us together._

Ryouma pried the Nohrian’s mouth from his dick and mussed his hair with a small smile.

        “If you don’t stop this,” he said, “I’m going to have to attend breakfast with a fully erect cock, Marx.”

The Nohrian shrugged and got to a stand, peeling away the borrowed yukata and preparing for a bath.

        “There’s always bath sex,” he said easily, slipping from Ryouma’s bedchamber and into the washroom.

He began to draw the bath and then paused, listening.

The sound of the Hoshidan prince’s feet hitting the ground rang like music to Marx’s ears.  He hid his grin.

**Author's Note:**

> im back at it again and this time im bringing to this lovely audience some shameless ryoumarx because i am gay trash and as always i look forward to your feedback and appreciate your time
> 
> (Note as of 30 December, 2016: im really dissatisfied with some of the character portrayal in this so im rewriting it and itll be updated with the newer version soon.)


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